


Of Creepy Housewives and Hot Asses

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Minor Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, allison lydia and erica are housewives even though none of them would ever be housewives in canon, minor erica reyes/vernon boyd, teacher!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 06:37:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You could serve coffee on that ass," whispers Mrs. Whittemore, and yeah, this is the last time he's ever doing this. Never again. He officially hates everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Creepy Housewives and Hot Asses

**Author's Note:**

> Mrs. McCall is Allison, not Scott's mom. Thought I should clarify that (:

Why they even have parent volunteers along for field trips Stiles doesn't really know. He'd spent the entire bus ride squished between a pair of chatty mothers, and now all he's doing is watching as the kids walk quietly around a museum he's been in about a billion times, taking notes and every now and then whispering to one another. It wouldn't even be that bad, except-

"God," Mrs. Boyd whispers into Stiles' ear, way too close for comfort, "I swear, the next time he bends over to help a kid I'm not going to be able to stop myself."

Stiles raises an eyebrow at the wedding ring on her finger, but if she notices she doesn't say anything, "Tell me about it," replies Mrs. McCall, actually leaning forward as if to get a closer look, "If Scott had an ass half that good I don't think we'd ever leave the house."

"You could serve coffee on that ass," whispers Mrs. Whittemore, and yeah, this is the last time he's ever doing this. Never fucking again. He officially hates everything.

Well, no. _Now_ he officially hates everything because now a bunch of bored housewives are staring at him with raised eyebrows as if they're expecting to join in on their worship of Mr. Hale's ass. He coughs awkwardly, "Aren't you all married?"

Mrs. McCall scoffs, "Oh, please," she rolls her eyes, "You're acting like we're cheating on our husbands. Let me ask you this, if we were all a bunch of men and that was a female teacher would you be asking us if we were married?"

"Uh oh," Mrs. Boyd giggles, "You set Allison's feminism off."

"I don't think feminism is something you can set off," Stiles says cautiously, "And yes, I would be asking you if you were married. Besides, it's not even so much that you're married and more the fact that your kids are about two feet away and they could very well hear their mothers blatantly objectifying a man who is not their father."

Mrs. McCall snickers, feminism apparently appeased, "Like you weren't looking."

"That's not the point!"

"I just don't understand how he gets it to be that round," Mrs. Whittemore says, cheek resting on her palm, "I need to ask that guy for some tips."

As if he heard them, Mr. Hale turns around with a wide smile on his face, shooing a little girl away and making his way towards them. Instantly the women sit up straighter, Mrs. Boyd even going so far as to tussle her hair a bit, "And how are you lovely ladies doing so far? Sorry there's not more for you to do."

"We're entertaining ourselves just fine," Mrs. Whittemore assures, not being at all discreet in the way she lets her eyes travel over Mr. Hale's body. Stiles scoffs, drawing attention to himself.

"You doing okay Stiles?" Mr. Hale asks, smirking a bit, "These three aren't giving you too much trouble are they?"

"Who us?" Mrs. McCall bats her eyelashes innocently, "We'd never. We absolutely adore Stiles," she wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her.

Mr. Hale chuckles, eyes sparkling in amusement as Stiles tries to wriggle himself out of her iron grasp, "Is that so," he crossed his arms over his chest, smirk growing, "Maybe you can help me convince him to volunteer for the next field trip as well then."

"We'll do our best," Mrs. Boyd assures with a flutter of the eyelashes just as a little boy approaches them to ask Mr. Hale a question. The teacher waves goodbye to them and follows the boy over to the display he's curious about. "Christ that man should be illegal."

"So, Stiles," Mrs. Whittemore slumps down a bit, her need to impress obviously gone, "You haven't really told us a lot about yourself."

"Um," he scratches the back of his head, "There's not really much to say. I'm studying Criminology over at Beacon Hills Community-"

"Oh my gosh, you're still in college?" Mrs. Boyd squeals, "That is so adorable. Shit, I didn't know you were that young!"

"Language mom!" a young voice calls out from somewhere in the room. The other women chuckle at that.

"I agree though," Mrs. McCall says, "You look old enough to be out of college already. What year are you in?"

"Last year," he smiles, "I'm hoping to join my dad's team as soon as I'm out."

"That's fascinating," Mrs. Boyd twirls her finger around a lock of blonde hair, "Now, tell us, how do you know Mr. Hale? Normally the fourth volunteer is some unwilling father or his sister," she rolls her eyes, "We've never had a young college senior like yourself amongst our midst."

Stiles shrugs, glancing over at where Mr. Hale is pointing out something in a display to one of the students, "His younger sister, Cora, is in most of my classes. I've known him for a while and the other day he mentioned he was in a pinch with this whole finding a fourth volunteer thing so I offered to help," something that would never ever happen again, seriously.

Mrs. McCall and Mrs. Whittemore nod along, smiling, while Mrs. Boyd narrows her eyes, "You voluntarily gave up your day to help out the brother of one of your friends take a bunch of fourth graders to the Beacon Hills Museum?" Stiles shrugs again, "Shit," she leans closer to him, her voice dropping to a whisper, "You're totally crushing on him aren't you!"

Stiles' eyes widen, "What?" he squeaks, "No! What? I'm just doing him a favour, I'm not-" he glances over at Mr. Hale, catching his eye for a brief second, blushing at the smile he finds there, "I'm not crushing on him. See," he lifts his left hand to show off the ring on his finger, "No crushing going on over here."

All three girls squeal in excitement, crowding in way too close, "Oh my God, it's gorgeous," Mrs. Whittemore exclaims, "Much nicer than the one Jackson got me, holy crap."

"You must give really good head," Mrs. Boyd says casually as she runs a finger over the band, "Shit, son."

"Mom, stop it!"

Drawn like a moth to a flame, Mr. Hale approaches them once more, one eyebrow raised, "Erica," he says to Mrs. Boyd, "You're a great volunteer and I love that you came, but I really need you to tone down the language in front of the children." He glances down at where she's still clutching Stiles' hand tightly and smiles, "Nice ring Stilinski. Congratulations."

He walks away at the call of another student, unaware of the hell he's just unleashed, "Oh my God," Mrs. McCall whispers, "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what? He congratulated me, so?"

"That wasn't just a congratulations," she continued undettered, "That was a 'congratulations, I hope you break up with that asshole so I can be him instead'."

Stiles coughs out a laugh, "No, no I don't think that's what it was."

"It so was!" Mrs. Boyd clutches his hand tighter, "He likes you. You lucky son of a bi- gun," she glances around, catches her daughter's eye and sends her a wink, "I can't believe it!"

"Guys," Stiles sighs, "Mr. Hale is seeing someone. Very seriously might I add. He was just congratulating me on my engagement. It's... recent," he blushes, pulling his hand away from Mrs. Boyd, "As in last night recent."

The squeals the three let out are almost inhuman, "Are you _serious_?" Mrs. Whittemore hisses, "You're telling me that your boy proposed to you last night and you're spending your day _here_ instead of having hot engagement sex with him?"

Stiles shrugs, "He's working all day anyway. We'll... celebrate when we both get home."

"Okay, seriously, you need to come to every other field trip with us," Mrs. Boyd exclaims, "You are just too good. Recently engaged with the hot older brother of your best friend crushing on you, slowly dying on the inside every time he thinks of you and that man you're with. It's like a soap opera."

Stiles rolls his eyes, "First of all, Cora isn't my best friend. Secondly, he's not crushing on me, so knock it off."

"But if he was crushing on you, let's just think about it hypothetically," Mrs. McCall grins, "What would you do?"

He knows what they want him to say, so he smirks and says, "I'd enjoy my last few months as a bachelor a bit more is what I would do."

The women cackle happily, Mrs. Boyd screaming, "I knew you were checking out his ass!" way too loudly considering how many children are around. Mr. Hale glances over at them, catches Stiles' eyes and shakes his head.

Stiles seriously hates him _so_ much.

**

When he gets home his fiance's car is already in the driveway. He smiles to himself at the thought, running a finger over his ring. Fiance. He has a fiance and he is someone's fiance. Not even the crazy events of the day can ruin the happy feeling.

Although to be honest he never wants to hear another squeal again. He heard way too much squealing on the field trip which was only followed by more screaming when he showed Cora the ring during their lecture. If they ever adopt, it's going to be a boy.

"Honey, I'm home," he calls out, smiling as he does. He hears some chuckling from the kitchen and heads in that direction, grinning at the sight of his fiance chopping carrots, "Aw, you're making dinner? How romantic."

"Well," he shrugs, "I didn't really get to last night. What with the proposing and all."

"Still," Stiles leans up to kiss him gently on the lips, "You were working all day. If anything I should be making _you_ dinner seeing as all I did was sit around gossiping with a bunch of forty year old women."

His fiance smirks way too wide for his liking, "That's right, you went on that fieldtrip today. How did that go?"

"Absolutely horrible," Stiles smiles sarcastically, "I had to spend the entire morning listening to bored housewives talk about the teachers ass, and then they got this crazy idea into their head that the teacher has a crush on me and wouldn't stop bothering me until I admitted that I would totally tap that."

"A crush you say? Who is this guy, I might have to beat him up. Especially if you would totally tap that."

"Don't worry," Stiles kissed him again, "He's got nothing on you."

"Really?"

"Definitely. Besides, I assured them that he definitely does not have a crush on me," he smirks, kissing him once more, "I've known the guy for a while, see, and I think I would know if he was crushing on me."

His next kiss is met with a smirk, "Are you sure you weren't lying to them about the teacher? Maybe he does have a crush on you."

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't," Stiles wraps his arms around his waist, "His feelings for me are much too strong to be considered a crush."

"Sounds like you know more about this guy and his feelings than you let those women know."

Stiles grins, "Only that he put a ring on my finger last night and promised to be mine forever."

Derek laughs and kisses him long and hard, "I can't believe we're getting married," he whispers against Stiles' lips, kissing him briefly. He pauses halfway through the kiss and pulls away abruptly, "Were they really talking about my ass?"

Stiles groans, resting his head against Derek's chest, "All. Day. Long. About halfway through the day I honestly considered throwing my ring at you and calling everything off just for making me sit through that."

Derek growls low in his chest and grips Stiles' waist tightly, "How about instead of that you just show me who my ass really belongs to?"

Grinning widely, Stiles dragged Derek out of the kitchen and up to their bedroom without another word, creepy housewives the farthest thing from his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Just fyi, feminism is not something that can be "set off" or "appeased" as easily as it is described in this story. That is all.


End file.
